The Dragon Aesir
by Stalokills
Summary: A boy wakes up suddenly in an iceberg, surrounded by strange things. He is over 1500 years from his time, and is suddenly thrust into a world of magic and prophecies, where your ability to fight becomes the thing that decides your fate. To fill his role and save his new home, he must train in accordance to an ancient prophecy. But how do you do that when even gods are against you?
1. Chapter 1

He wasn't sure when he woke up. There was no way to tell. Darkness...that's the first thing he noticed. There was no sound to hear, no light to see. Nothing to touch, nor taste. Just...black.

The first thing that went through his head was to get up and run from danger. Even though he could not see it, he could sense the danger from where he was. When he was fully conscious, he knew nothing other than fear and confusion. He could not tell where he was, not did he know what to do. He could not move, and panic began to set in as he struggled against an invisible force for his survival.

He was completely powerless. He tried to breathe, but it was like something was smothering him. He opened his mouth in an attempt to gather in as much air as possible, but it didn't do him any good. He gasped and searched desperately for it, but there was no air to be found. As he continued his endeavor for air, his eyes began to close as consciousness began to evade him.

As he slowly felt his mind start to slip away, only a few moments after waking up, he still continued his hopeless attempt to survive. His instincts told him to fight, fight or else he would die. The fear of death and the slow pain of losing to this strange thing began to close in on him completely. He had no idea how long he was fighting the inevitable. He had no sense of time in this place. He was getting lost in the blur and the aggressive pull of sleep, when through the void, he heard a crack. He opened his eyes to the darkness and felt a sudden blast of cold hit him in the face.

Suddenly, he was able to breathe freely again. He gasped in the cold air through his mouth, his lungs being filled with a cold briskness that had shook the feeling of death out of him, tough he felt no safer than he had before. He was gaping wildly as his mind once again began to clear up. And when he was again fully awake, he could see it.

A small sliver of blue light right in front of his eyes, where a breeze of cold air was flowing through it. Though he felt that it was dangerous, he knew that it was a good sign too. He immediately wanted to reach out to that light and hold it. Light meant safety. He knew that in his guts. There was another sound, this one somewhat different, more of a crush than a crack, and the light got bigger.

Suddenly, there was loud bang that deafened all other sound. He was thrown backwards for only a few moments as he hit the same invisible force. He was enveloped in an amazingly bright light that forced his eyes shut from pure pain. An overwhelming heat showered him in its presence. The shock that went through him made his whole body tired and shaky, though it didn't last very long.

His eyes reluctantly opened when he realized that the light had gotten softer, though it was still bright. It was hard to focus. His fingers flinched in anticipation, and he began to notice that he was free from the threat. He felt the heat leave and an unforgiving cold run all over his body, and his heartbeat rose. He jumped up on his feet and one hand, using his other arm to block the light so he could see the danger ahead. He only had one thought in his mind.

 _Survive._

He looked down and could see he was on a small hill, only big enough for his body. The surface around him went down steeply and up suddenly, making a large hole almost everywhere. He carefully took his first step, and heard a crack. He quickly pulled his feet back as he looked down where his foot was. The surface had changed to make a shape, the shape of his foot. He waited a second before he put his foot back. Slowly, he set his foot down. The surface made a cracking noise before stopping so that his foot was safely in the foot shaped hole. He slowly stepped forward as the surface constantly moved to fit his feet, and out from under the light. The surface he walked on was blue and white, and incredibly cold. Ice, he named it. The ice did not hurt his feet, though it was uncomfortable on the rest of his body. As he took his steps, the ice moved to fit around his feet. It must have liked him. he looked behind him and saw a large hole in it, some strange white stuff coming up from it. Steam. He blinked as he took in the scene below him.

Far below him, there were a lot of strange figures, small moving ones surrounded by big moving ones. Twelve small ones, he numbered them. They were all completely black, with strange protruding stick coming out of their backs. The big moving objects were loud and had strange lights coming out of their eyes. While the small ones were seemingly passive to him, the big ones were constantly growling, which meant they were going to attack him.

Fear kicked in as he tried to figure out what to do. He looked around and saw that the ice was surrounded by a strange moving and black surface. It made a large sound that was impossible to miss, and it seemed to go on forever. The...ocean. That one was hard to recognize. Though there was one thing he could recognize.

He could not run. The only choice was to fight these animals. It was the only choice to survive. Or maybe he could just stay up here. It didn't seem like they could get up there. He was safe as long as he stayed up here.

"Hi." He spun suddenly towards the sudden strange sound. There was another animal up there, but he hadn't seen it coming. Was it going to attack him? Was it going to run?

Wait...this animal was different. Most of it was black, but it's head was different. It had long shiny black stuff on the back of it...hair. It's eyes weren't strange at all, but they were...nice. They looked safe. It's face felt familiar, yet different, but it still made him feel safe. It's body was a little different too. The animals down there were all...square-shaped and had the strange sticks on their backs. But this one was more round and flat where the others were thick and bulgy. It took him a while, but he recognized that this must have been a female.

"I don't have any weapons. I'm not going to hurt you." He didn't understand what the noises from her mouth meant, but they were...soft. They made him feel safe. She had her hands up in front of her, and it seemed to be a form of surrender. It didn't seem like she was going to attack him. "I'm jut going to get a little closer, okay?"

She took a step towards him, and he began to feel the panic set in. He had the sudden instinct to run, and he quickly scrambled back.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey!" She stepped back with her hands up. "I'm a friend. Okay? Friend."

He still didn't understand most of her growling, but that one stuck out to him. That...what was it called...word. Friend. Friends were safe. She must have been trying to tell him she was safe. Maybe he should let her know he wasn't going to attack her either.

"F...Friend." He attempted to copy her word, but his was different from hers. Although, she moved her lips in a strange way. A smile. That's what it was. Smiles meant happy. Happy was safe.

"That's right. I'm not going to hurt you." He was starting to understand her words more, though still not a lot. He understood what she was trying to get through, but he wasn't sure how to give it back to her.

"...no...hurt?" He tried. Maybe that would keep her passive. She smiled brighter. Now, looking at her face, he felt something strange. In his instinct, he knew what was happening. He felt himself connect to her, and suddenly he started to understand.

Names, words, people, places, objects, languages. They all flew into him in a matter of seconds, and soon he understood everything that she did. He could feel himself become smarter, and suddenly it was cut off. He blinked as he caught up with the new information that was in his mind. He knew enough to understand what the guns they were carrying did. That she would come up here unarmed...

"Do you have a name? A name?" She asked. His name? Suddenly, his brain hurt, and he looked down as he tried to remember it.

"My name..." He started. He stood up slowly, just now noticing the golden-colored clothing he was wearing. "My name is..."


	2. Chapter 2

He was lead into the back of a caravan at gunpoint. Twelve men, all with weapons trained on him. The masks covering there faces showed no emotion nor remorse. There was not a doubt in his mind they would kill him if he did not obey their commands.

Yet he did not feel afraid.

Up the ramp he went, into a moving prison. It was strange, but he felt at peace with everything. That he was safe, even. Was it because he was confident in his safety, or did he subconsciously choose to believe that these people would not hurt him. Either way, it would mean he was an idiot. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of superiority on these people. Like he was amused they were trying.

"Just keep it moving." One of the muffled voices said to him. He was not paying very much attention to them, however. Lost in thought, he was oblivious to there orders. He simply walked into the large vehicle and sat down where he would be secluded, away from all the other people.

And then he got that strange feeling. It was one of...he couldn't even describe it. It was familiar, almost like a memory. This situation, surrounded by hostile people, alone and secluded, felt...normal.

Maybe it was.

The rest of the men in the black armor boarded the vehicle, and the ramp closed behind them. Slowly, the caravan started to move forward, the giant metal vessel loud and shaky. He sat there, letting the enemy that surrounded him study his presence, as he looked out the back, towards the giant structure of ice he had climbed down from. The night sky made it's light blue and white stand out, against the dark backdrop. He watched it get farther away from him, shrinking into the distance, and he felt a if a part of him was left back there.

Suddenly, he yearned to go back. He knew he couldn't, but he felt as if he needed to go back to that iceberg. As if an important part of him was left back there.

He felt the feeling fade as the iceberg became farther and farther, until it became nothing more than an insignificant dot in his field of view.

* * *

A black bag had been put over her head, which muffled all sound and sight. He did not show any panic or fear however. He just sat there, waiting for whatever came next. For what seemed like hours he had been sitting on this uncomfortable metal seat in the caravan, not a word being exchanged between any of them. During this time, he did nothing but think about himself. He thought about what his past was, who he was, what he could've been. He had no identity, no memory, no life. He was nothing.

Something about that sentence drove an unfamiliar sadness deep into him.

He continued to contemplate the manner of his existence. It seemed ever since he... _woke up_ he had been in danger and threatened. Was this the way the world worked? Was there nothing but danger and threats? He had been in this world a long time, but it seemed a somewhat logical conclusion. But it felt...wrong. Logic said it was right, but something deep in him pulled him away from that. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Immediately, he was calm and content.

He felt the vehicle below him begin to slow as commotion began to pick up around him. It lurched to a stop with a hiss, giving one final moment of resistance before it was completely at rest.

"Okay, get up." Someone said. He was grabbed roughly and hoisted up by his arms and wrists. He was hastily led out of the caravan, the men not giving him ample time to keep up.

He often stumbled and tripped over himself to the beat of heavy footsteps on the seemingly metallic floor. Still, they did not slow down. There were no words exchanged between any of his captors. He gave that word to describe them even though he did not completely understand if he what he was in relation to these people. All the signs pointed to him being a prisoner, though he wanted to find out just a little more before he decided that.

He was brought to a uneasy and sudden stop. There was a pause before he heard four consecutive robotic beeps. There was a hiss and the sound of metal sliding against itself, and he was shoved forward. Even though he couldn't smell very well through this thick bag, he noticed the thick smell of metal and a strange unpleasant substance. Medicine?

He was forcefully laid down on a surface. Although it wasn't completely soft, it was undoubtedly more comfortable than the cold metal surface of the caravan. Laying down there, he felt some thick fabric being tightened around his wrists and ankles. The bag was pulled off of his head with little difficulty, to which his eyes were introduced to a sudden bright light overhead. The pain on his eyes caused him to close his eyes and turn his head. A final piece of fabric was strapped tightly around his torso.

"Please treat him with a little more restraint, Lieutenant. I will not have my patients caused more harm while in my care." Someone said. Despite this warning, his head was forced to look up and another strap was added uncomfortably tight to his forehead. In an attempt to get more used to the bright light, he slowly opened his eyes. Thankfully the light was getting dimmer.

"Just figure out who this is, and we can get on with it." Someone said. He looked over to the left at the men who had brought him here. They had taken off their black masks so that he had a clear view of their faces. He had to be honest, without the masks, they were not as intimidated. They were... _humanized_. Not just faceless monsters, but actual people. Although he felt surprise inside him he did not show it on his face.

"Fine, just get out so I can do my job." Someone said with a sigh. Looking over to the right, he saw a man in a white lab coat was standing at his feet. He was short and pudgy, his hair white and balding. He wore thin wire frame glasses and carried a clipboard over his chest in the crook of his left arm. "I have enough problems to do with without you underdeveloped monkeys interrupting my work."

"Just get it done, before we're forced to give you a little more incentive." One of the men in black said, a crooked smile on his face. Apparently, the rest of the men in the group found such a comment humorous, as they were laughing. He did not understand what they found so funny in the statement, but he did not particularly feel like asking. Nevertheless, they left the room one by one, their laughter echoing in the small room he was in. As the last on exited a wall of glass and metal slid behind him, successfully shutting off the entire room from the outside hallway. As the wall stopped with a sound similar to a hiss the man in the lab coat spoke to himself. "Goddamn idiots."

He took this moment to look around the room. Multiple tools were placed around the tools on tables and cabinets. They were all placed in some kind of comprehensible order, nice and neat, side by side. The walls had nothing on them. Besides the one to his left, they were pure metal with no glass or openings. The ceiling a tile-pattern. Each tile had the same picture on it. Three golden arrows crossing over each other so that they formed kind of a triangle. With the light that bounced of of the ceiling, it looked almost like they were glowing. Besides that there was nothing else in the room.

"Noticing the fine art?" The only other person in the room said. He looked up at the man in the lab coat and saw that he was standing straight over him. He took no notice and went back to looking at the ceiling.

"Just curious." He said. He studied the picture for a moment. "What does it mean?" The man in the lab coat looked up at the ceiling to study the picture as well.

"I haven't thought about it in a long time. But, all the arrows represent a whole. Each one a different part of what we do here, all of us combining to make a glorious insignia." The man in the lab coat went quiet for a moment, lost in thought.

 _Strange_ , he thought. Even if he did not know whether behavior like that was common or not, he deemed it unusual. And his explanation was certainly unhelpful. However, he did now know that there was a large group around here. That bit of information was quite worth the strangeness of the conversation. The man with the lab coat clapped his hands suddenly, causing him to jump.

"First thing's first. I would like to now your name." The man in the lab coat said. He blinked.

"I do not currently have a name." He said. The man in the lab coat smiled.

"Of course you don't. Well," the man in the lab coat shifted the clipboard to look at it, "Subject number two-fifty-three. Look's like we're just gonna have to get the information I desire the _hard_ way." He blinked.

"Two-fifty-three?" He asked. "Is that my name?"

"No. But it will be for the remainder of your stay here." The man in the lab coat said. "You may address me as Dr. Trost for the remainder of your time here." Dr. Trost set the clipboard down on a metal table nest to 253. He hovered his hands back and forth over an array of scalpels. "Well, first thing's first. We're going to have to take a sample. Nothing personal, purely for identification purposes."

His hand slowed to a stop over a scalpel with a straight blade. He picked it up and put up close to his glasses, inspecting the blade. 253 looked blankly at the blade, not exactly sure what to make of it. To him, it was just a piece of metal that was simply there. He did not understand why it was necessary to obtain a "sample" from him. But from how well and sharp the blade looked like it was kept, he assumed it was for cutting. Was Dr. Trost planning to cut something from him? Perhaps a piece of flesh or of the clothing he was in. Interesting. Dr. Trost walked close to the left 253, the scalpel held up near his head.

"This won't hurt for long. I'll give you some anesthesia and antibiotics afterwards, but I'm afraid the uncultured swine here consider it crucial for the patients to understand their position here." Dr. Trost said. 253 did not completely understand the reasoning behind that. If it was to attempt to help the patient, then the pain was not in their favorite. If it was an attempt to subdue the patient, then the pain would cause them to be disobedient short-termed.

The doctor slowly brought the scalpel down to 253's chest, pressing the cold metal to his skin. Dr. Trost made eye contact with 253, and a sadistic smile spread over his face. With one hard movement, tilted the scalpel diagonal with 253's skin and pushed down. With a loud snap, the top of the instrument came clean off, bouncing off his skin and landing on the floor. 253 looked down at the broken tool that was still in contact with him.

"Is that a normal reaction?" He asked, looking at Dr. Trost. Dr. Trost was looking at the blade with an expression of disbelief. It was likely he did not even hear 253. "Dr. Trost?"

"...I...How..." Dr. Trost was speechless for a moment, before a smile that expressed pure enjoyment came across his face. "That's amazing. Your skin is most definitely denser than most normal humans. This is certainly interesting."

"Is that so?" 253 asked. "I don't know exactly what to make of that."

"Oh, I would not expect you too. You're not as educated as I." Dr. Trost said. "I'll just have to use a tool with more force for you. Interesting, indeed."

Dr. Trost turned, tossing the broken blade away in a metal bin on the floor. He slid across his hand on the metal wall opposite from the glass. Somewhere in the middle he pressed against the wall lightly. A small light appeared on his hand, separating into two and both going down and up as if they were cutting the wall. With a hiss, the two new pieces of wall separated and slid in opposite directions. They revealed a hidden cabinet, filled with multiple drills and tools. Each one was different looking, some extremely small and some extremely . Trost picked up the largest tool from the bottom, something that looked more fit to cut through rocks than to preform anything needed in the hospital. The handle was large and orange. It looked more like an extra handgun with a large twisted metal piece protruding from the end.

"Yes, yes. Interesting indeed." Dr. Trost said. He picked up to drill near his face and turned it over, studying it. It looked heavier than he could carry, but 253 assumed that it he would preform satisfactorily despite that.

"I would like to advise against this action." 253 said. Dr. Trost simply laughed at his comment.

"I expected nothing less from you." Dr. Trost said. "I would not be too worried about this. It should not take very long. Refrain from struggling and it will be over virtually quickly." He said.

253 recognized the present threat. It's not that he did not care, it was like it...did not matter. He knew that he should be threatened. Logic and common sense said so. But his pure instincts said he would be fine. So he did not panic. He did not struggle. He simply sat there and waited for Dr. Trost to get a sample from him.

Dr. Trost turned the drill up right and pressed a button on the side of it. Immediately the twisted piece of metal started to twirl at a rapid pace, so that everything but the center of the rod was a blur. With a smile on his face, Dr. Trost made his way closer to 253.


	3. Chapter 3

253 laid there and watched the back of Dr. Trost as he stood defeated in his medical lab. Scraps of metals and plastics littered the ground around his feet, along with the corpses of the tools that they were once attached to. They had all proved fruitless in their efforts to make 253 so much as flinch, much less pierce his skin. Honestly, 253 was just as confused as Dr. Trost was. Something about the fact his skin was impenetrable to Dr. Trost did not feel right. An alien concept to him. However, he was more worried about his aching back than what was going through the good doctor's head.

Dr. Trost stood there and stared at 253. His face adopted a look of intrigued defeat. Dr. Trost must not have had much experience with occurrences such as this. It both intrigued and confused 253 how little the doctor knew about a body like his. Deep inside him, 253 felt deep relief surface. Fear had started to take over on the third drill, but by the tenth scalpel it had all but disappeared. He found himself wondering if the doctor was done with these useless procedures. The doctor looked up to make eye contact with 253.

"You are by far the most interesting specimen that I have had the pleasure of studying." Dr. Trost said. He then proceeded to take off his glasses, carefully folding them and placing them on the table next to 253. He the took off his lab coat and walked over to the far left of the room, opposite from him. Dr. Trost hung the lab coat up on a rack with his back facing 253. "Despite having such a wide variety of tools at my disposal, it seems I could not penetrate your skin. I'm afraid I will have to resort to brute force with this. Such a shame, you know? I would have preferred to do this without making a mess."

253 did not say a word. He wondered what Dr. Trost meant by brute force. Perhaps he was preparing another machine to be used on him. It was annoying at the most, but 253 say no threat big enough where he should try to escape. At this point he was all but certain that his condition was a phenomenon. From what he was able to piece together, the scalpel was made to cut through a person flesh. Those drills were several times stronger than the scalpel. If the drills did not even put a scratch on him, his skin must be several times stronger than that of the average person they were used to dealing with. Perhaps he was not afraid of the soldiers because he knew that subconsciously. No doubt there were many things he did not know about his own body. But he had to wonder, was strong skin the only ability he possessed? Looking down at the straps that held him in place, he noticed he barely felt them now. Was this because of his skin? Shaking his hand a little, he noticed that the straps looked like they were tight, but to him they felt rather flimsy. If they felt like that, perhaps they actually were. Or it could just be a thought that passed his mind. Across the room, Dr. Trost heard the small commotion that he made. Turning to face him, the doctor smiled.

"Trying to escape?" Dr. Trost said.

"No. Simply testing a theory." 253 said. Without a second thought, he sat up. Much to his surprise, he found there was no resistance from the straps. As soon as he began to move, they strained for only a few moments before being forced to break. He raised his hands in front of his face as flexed them, studying the way his limbs moved. These were made to hold someone down it seemed. If that was the case, they would need to be strong enough to hold a person down. "So I have sizable amount of strength as well." He looked to the straps on his ankles and reached down. He grabbed the one on his left and simply jerked it up. The sudden movement and force on the strap caused it to give way immediately, breaking with a muffled sound. He reached over to his right ankle and did the same.

His legs now free, he turned towards the left side of the bed and stood up. He lifted both his arms and stretched his back with an audible crack signaling his relief. _Much better_ , he thought to himself. He turned to the doctor, who simply stood there un-moving. 253 could see from the quivering of the doctor's lips, the uncontrolled shaking in his right hand, and the sudden but large amount or perspiration that the doctor was feeling an intense amount of fear. Though he could safely say he did not understand what had put the doctor in such a state, he assumed it had something to do with him. Regardless, the doctor was not on his list of worries at the moment. He wanted to know where he was and who had brought him here. He thought to ask the doctor. The soldiers would no doubt be extremely against answering any of his questions.

"Dr. Trost?" He asked. The doctor jumped a little at the sudden mention of him, and he audibly gulped what 253 assumed to be an excessive amount of saliva.

"Y-y-yes?" Dr. Trost stuttered. Strange, he never stuttered before. _Perhaps his extensive amount of fear is the cause behind it,_ 253 thought to himself.

"Could you tell me where I am?" 253 asked. Dr. Trost was silent for a moment. 253 found himself confused at Dr. Trost's hesitation, though he pinned down the reason to be fear.

"...I-I'm afraid that information is c-classified." Dr. Trost said. 253 frowned. Classified? If he was not mistaken, that meant the doctor was not allowed to share the information with him. Although his original theory was wrong, it did not really matter to him. He would just ask someone else.

"I see. Thank you." He said simply, and turned to the door. Stepping in front of it, he inspected the door for any sign of ow to open it. Much to his dismay, he found nothing that looked like it opened the door. If he remembered correctly, the door slid closed earlier. Perhaps it slid open in the same fashion. Looking closely at it, he saw that there was a small amount of opening on the right side of the door. Maybe if he slid it to the right, it would open enough for him to walk through. Putting his hand on it, he expected a great deal of resistance from the door. He applied a large deal of force on it. However, instead of sliding open, the door broke free form the wall and flew forward. It smashed across the hall with a loud banging of metal and crushing of glass. Caught off guard, he looked down at his hand and studied it. _It seems that I don't know the limits of my strength, nor how to control it. I shall have to figure out how soon to avoid mishaps like this in the future. But first, I should apologize to the doctor for breaking his hospital._

"I apologize." 253 said, turning to Dr. Trost. "That was a mistake on my part." 253 turned back to the door and walked through. As soon as his feet stopped moving, a sudden flurry of red lights and blaring sounds met him. It seemed the entire hallways was dark except for the pulsing red light that was present. He could hear the noises of pounding footsteps and clanking metal. Confusion grew in him as he wondered what was going on. Judging from the lights and sounds, it was obviously some kind of emergency. _If something dangerous is going on, then I should get out of here. Just because the doctor couldn't hurt me doesn't mean that whatever is happening can't._

With that thought in mind he started to walk down the hallway, the chorus of lights and sounds never leaving him as he walked. He could hear the shouting of soldiers not too far from him. He decided it was best if they did not find him, lest they start trying to shoot him. Although, that lead him to the question. Could bullets hurt him? He knew that they were made to kill a person, but never the less he began to wonder. What if he was impenetrable to bullets as well? The thought plagued him as he continued to walk down the hall. He began to wonder what else he could do, or what else could or couldn't hurt him. It was a mystery to him. He sighed out loud.

"HEY! YOU!" Someone shouted. He turned his head in confusion towards the voice. At the end of the hall behind him, there were at least five soldiers lined up side by side facing him. Each of them was armed with a sizable enough gun that it even started to worry 253 a little. They all pointed their guns at him in unison, each one shouting their own commands. He could make out something of what they said, but they were drowned out under the horns.

 _What's up with them?_ He thought to himself. Oh, _they probably want me to surrender or something like that. I am a prisoner here after all. Do they think I'm trying to escape or something? Well, now that I think about it, I guess it would seem like that. I should clear this up before they do something stupid._

Without warning, all five guns began firing in sequence at him. The sounds of the bullets being unloaded echoed out over the sirens, and where they connected on the floor under and the ceiling above sparks flew. He could feel stinging on his skin, although it was more of an annoyance to him than something painful. They connected with different parts of his body rapidly. 253 instinctively raised his right arm to cover his eyes so that none of the metal or sparks got in them. He decide that he had enough problems to deal with as it is without a piece of metal wedged behind his eyelids.

 _So they're actually trying to kill me._ 253 thought. _Well, in hindsight, Dr. Trost trying to cut my skin open should have been my first clue that something was off here._

The firing died out slowly, until there was one gun left firing. When it stopped, 253 could hear that the blaring sirens had went silent as well. At least that wasn't annoying him now. He kept his arm in front of his face for another moment, in case the soldiers were going to fire again. After a moment, he was convinced that they weren't. But he had to make sure.

"Are you done?" 253 asked. There was no answer, but there wasn't any gunfire either. He took that as an answer. He lowered his arm and looked at them. "Good. Now, if you could tell me just where I am, I-"

"HEY!" He heard from behind him. He closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of annoyance. He waited a second to calm himself down before turning around. Standing at the opposite end of the hallway was the girl who had found him in the iceberg. Maybe she could help him.

"Hello. Maybe you can help me? I'm-" He started, but was soon cut off by her firing a small pistol at him. He felt a small tingle on his forehead and heard the sound of the bullet ricocheting onto the metal. Despite that, he continued on. "-trying to figure out where I am."

"You think you can just come in here and attack us?" She asked. 253 raised his eyebrows in confusion. He hasn't attacked anybody as far as he could remember. Of course, a few things were broken because of him, but that was hardly need to say he was attacking them. When he thought about it, they were the ones attacking him. Of course, pointing those points out wouldn't help him get any closer to knowing where he was.

"I did not attack you." 253 stated simply. The girl scoffed, not lowering her aim at him. "Can you tell me where I am?"

"Are you serious?! You think I would really tell you the location of this base!" She said, her voice filled with determination. 253 betrayed no emotion, although he was becoming more and more irritated with these people.

"Yes." He said simply. The girl was clearly caught off guard, her face faltering for only a millisecond.

"Who sent you? The U.N.? Russia?" She asked. 253 blinked, confused at what she was asking. Were those people or something? Whatever they were it sounded like she didn't like them.

"I don't believe that I was sent here by anyone. In fact, you were the ones to bring me here." 253 said. The girl frowned at him, her grip on her gun becoming visibly tighter.

"So you're a joker, is that it?" She asked him. 253 was confused as to why she thought he was joking. He was being completely serious while talking to her. Perhaps she did not understand what he meant. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, the girl cut him off. "Don't say another word. I'm tired of hearing your voice."

 _Well that was unnecessarily harsh. So be it,_ He thought. He realized that trying to ask them about his location was nothing more than a waste of time. He should just leave and figure it out from there. Ignoring all the guns pointed at him, he started walking towards the end of the hallway, determined to find a way out of this place. He had questions that needed answering, and if he couldn't get them from these soldiers, he would just find them himself.

The girl took a step back as he advanced, her gun raised so that 253 could see down the barrel. He could see from the look on her face that she knew the gun would not help her take him down in any way. But that did not stop her from keeping the gun raised at him as he took more steps towards her. He was halfway to her when she started to fire at him wildly.

Bullets bounced off him with a strange sound. To him, it kind of sounded like "ping." They sparked as they ricocheted off his skin and into the surrounding environment, always hitting around his face but never hitting eyes, much to his relief. Bullets must move slow, because he could see them as they came towards him and bounce off. He knew he could dodge them if he wanted to, his instincts told him so. But he thought that it would do nothing but hurt the guys behind him, so he let the bullets hit him and move out of the way of danger for anyone behind him.

He was now a foot from her, and she kept firing. Soon her last bullet was fired, and no matter how much she pulled the trigger, the only thing that happened was the gun making a strange clicking noise. He kept walking towards the hallway behind her despite the major annoyance he was feeling. She finally stopped pulling the trigger and threw the gun at him, which bounced harmlessly off his chest. The girl took one step back for ever step he took in her direction. Soon her back hit a wall and she couldn't move anymore. Her face shook slightly in an expression mixed between fear and anger. 253 took one more step towards her, then turned right and continued down that hallway.

He could not hear nay noise behind him, so he assumed they were finally going to leave him alone. Now he had one less problem to deal with, but he still had to figure out where he was and what he was doing here. To be honest, he didn't care what these guys wanted to do, but he it irritated him to no extent that they wouldn't answer a simple question after abducting him and trying to harm him on multiple occasions. These guys had no idea how to treat people. He might not know much but he knew that.

He continued his walk down the hall and came to a large open area. Inside it were extremely large metal objects lined up in rows. _Planes_ , he thought. There were boxes and smaller metal vehicles that littered the ares around the planes, but there were strangely no people around. They must have left when the sirens and lights started to go off. Maybe they thought they were in danger or something. Oh well, now he had to figure out how to get out of here.

Looking at one of the walls, he saw that it was different from the others. It was especially large, roughly around three times his height he guessed, but there was a split down the middle. He guessed that it acted like a big door of some kind. Well, all he had to do was open it. Walking towards it, he wondered what he would do after he left. He knew nothing about anything except for what he learned from the girl back at the iceberg. Still, it was better than staying here with these people.

He walked up the door and put both of his hands on the split. Slowly, he pulled apart the wall with little effort and opened it to the outside. A gust of cold wind hit him in the face, although now he could barely feel it. The metal of the door groaned in resistance as he continued to pull them apart. Instead of the separate walls moving, he found that most of the wall stayed the same as he made a whole in the bottom portion big enough for him to fit through. After a moment, he let go of the metal and stepped trough. His feet stepped in the snow and sunk down about an inch, snow hitting his skin and melting immediately.

He barely felt any of it. He guessed one of his abilities were now immunity to the cold. Looking up at the dark sky, he realized the only source of light came from behind him. Everything else that surrounded him was dark, unknown. It was the only time he really felt uneasy after waking up. Looking at the endless white blanket that covered everything he could see, he wondered if he should just go back into the base. But then again, he didn't think he was welcomed there, not now at least. Sighing, he took one step forward. he then hesitated a second to see if something would happen.

 _Well, not dead yet,_ he thought. With only a small sense of security, he started his journey into the unknown


	4. Chapter 4

He had been walking for quite a while now, though he could not say exactly how long. He pondered on...well, everything. What was he to find in this land of snow? What was he supposed to find? Was there even anything to find? All these questions that stormed in his head, and he had no answer to any of them. And when he got done with those questions, more just came in their place. Why was he here? Who was he? What was he?

The worst part of any of this was not knowing. That's what he thought. It was a constant thing that, no matter what he did, haunted him. It's not like there was anything that he wanted to be, or particularly did not want to be. He just did not know what he was, so the possibilities of what he might have been plagued him. What he could have been did not bother him. What he could've had or done did not bother him. Not knowing any of those things are what bothered him. There was a certain closure he was missing, a part of his life that he needed to have access to.

The snow fell on his face softly, a chill from it that lasted only a millisecond. He looked up to the dark sky. He found it strange that there were no clouds, yet the snow fell anyways. Specks of white falling from a black void, as if by some kind of magic. He stopped walking and stood there, in the cold. In a strange way, he enjoyed it. Even though son some level it was intimidating, he felt...at home. He felt at peace here. For only a second, the questions in his head stopped. And only peace remained.

He sighed and looked forward. He began to walk again. He only went in one direction, not really trying to go to a certain place. He tried to keep his mind in that state of peace, but as he kept moving, so did his state of mind. The sound of the snow crunching under his feet only slightly audible to him. Soon his mind grew from questions of himself to questions of others. What if the people back at the compound were after him? What if they were the only ones in this world?

He noticed he was asking himself a lot of what if questions. He knew that asking these questions were pointless, since he had no answers to them right now. Yet he couldn't stop himself. He sighed, attempting to ignore the discontent in his head.

Suddenly, he stopped. He was hearing...something. It was a slight humming, coming from the direction where he was headed. He focused a bit, and saw a large metal vehicle coming his way. It did not look like a car or a plane, it had neither wings nor wheels. It was most likely a boat. As it advanced towards him, the snow and ice in front of it broke and moved out of the way. Which meant that instead of snow covered land, he was standing on the frozen top of the sea.

He started making his way towards the boat, although he knew it would take a while with the pace he was going at. He sighed, his bland expression always facing forward towards the boat. He stepped slowly towards it, not really having an idea on what to prepare for. He wondered about the people on it. Were they like the ones that he met a while ago? Maybe it was the same people that had attacked him. He sighed, realizing something actually pretty surprising.

He was bored. All that had happened in the past few hours, and he was still bored. There were many things that he did not quite understand, but boredom he was beginning to grasp. A little too quickly for his taste. After hours of doing nothing but walking, he needed to do literally anything else at this moment.

As the boat started to get closer to him, he started to take notice of certain things. It wasn't a necessarily large boat, he thought. Although it looked like it could hold a couple of people, it wasn't that much bigger than the vehicle he was brought to the facility in, even if it did look significantly different. A light suddenly appeared from the top of the boat, shining down on him. It momentarily blinded him,and he quickly put an arm up to guard his eyes. It didn't really hurt, per say, but it was definitely uncomfortable. The boat hummed closer to him, and now he could make out the sounds of footsteps not quite drowned out by the humming. It was only a few feet from him when he noticed it was slowing down. Coming to a complete stop, the boat was almost close enough for him to touch it.

"Hey! You!" The gruffness of the voice was not lost to 253. It sounded almost...damaged. It was a low pitch, obviously male. "What are you doing out here?" 253 took a short moment to give careful thought on the events that had transpired before he found this boat.

"I don't know where I'm going." 253 answered honestly. He could hear confused muttering break out on the ship.

"Well, get up here. You're gon' have hypothermia out there like that." The gruff voice had a hint of confusion in it, but nonetheless 253 accepted the offer with an appreciative nod. 253 made his way around the boat to a ladder on the side. He didn't need help, the people on the boat grabbed him by the arms and hoisted him up. Although he didn't feel that they were actually doing anything, he thanked them for the help. He was given a large and thick blanket to cover up with. The warmth was appreciated, although he did try to explain that he was fine without it. They were not listening to that however, rather preferring to ask him questions instead.

He payed little actual attention to them, but answered all of their questions truthfully, even if he did not know the answers to most of them. Introductions were over with quickly, the names of all the men in his mind. The problem was he did not know which man owned which name. He was not worried, he was sure to figure it out eventually.

Suddenly, he felt fatigue start to grab a hold of him as his eyelids drifted closed. The men on board were still talking to them, even as he slowly started to pass out. He had never felt... _tired_ before. Or if he did, he simply did not remember it. But he knew what this feeling was. He wondered if everyone just knew what things were, even if they hadn't experienced them before. Or maybe that was just him.

Whatever, it didn't matter now. He was too tired to contemplate on these things, and slowly let sleep take over him. But, as he drifted off, he thought he saw a glint of red streak across the sky. Or perhaps it was just his imagination.

* * *

He awoke to the smell of salt. The boat rocked back and forth violently, throwing him off the bench he was sitting on. He must have been asleep when they drifted off the ice into the actual ocean. He stood up from the ground shakily, the constant movement of the hard surface under him making it difficult for him to stand. He was inside a cabin it seemed, with one small window on the left of him. 253 blinked, confused on what had happened. The sailors were probably forced to pick him up and carry him into here.

253 followed the noises of yelling and waves splashing through the door of the cabin, and like that he was back out on the front of the boat. He studied the scene that was placed before him as the sailors started working. The men around him moved quickly, pulling ropes and nets around the boat. They were screaming at one another, trying to get one another in order, this one here and that one there. On the front of the boat seemed to be an extremely large crate that took up most of the deck's space. It was filled halfway with what he assumed to be around 500 individual fish inside of it. There were all flopping around wildly, though he had no idea why. Perhaps it was because they needed to be in the water.

Deciding to look away, 253 faced up and the first thing he noticed was a blue sky. There were no stars, no darkness. The sky was filled with light, white clouds hanging far above him. It felt safe to him, he was entranced by it. The clouds slowly shifted across the sky, and soon all that he saw was that. He could not look at anything but that sky. Warmth was drifting down form it instead of the constant cold he felt at night, when the sky was dark. Then the sun came out.

The brightness it gave off was unreal. Nothing was as bright as it, yet it didn't hurt his eyes. He felt an indescribable warmth spread through him as he bathed in the light of the sun. It was unlike anything else. He felt himself fill with energy, and an emptiness that he had not even noticed he had was filled.

"Hey! Kid!" The gruff voice said. 253 regrettably looked away from the sun and to him. He was a short man, with a dark scraggly beard and a weary face, with wrinkles all over. "The hell you doing there? You're gon' become blind doin' that, you know?"

"Oh, sorry." 253 said, not really knowing what he did wrong. The man with the gruff voice shook his head. "Where are we going?" The man with the gruff voice started to roll up a net,looking off into the distance over the sea.

"I figure we stay course over fishing grounds, then take our haul into dry land. Once we reach port in Berk, we'll call the police or something, social services maybe, have somebody pick you up." He said. 253 nodded. Although it was a fairly simply plan, he did appreciate the assistance.

"Thank you." 253 said, looking at the sky again. The man with the gruff voice just sniffed in response. "Port in Berk." 253 repeated to himself. There was something familiar about that word, Berk. He just didn't know what.

"Just answer me this." He said, causing 253 to look back at him. "You were out in the freezing cold for God knows how long, with nothing but that piece of cloth on your legs. How in the hell are you up and walking right now?"

"If I'm being completely honest, I have no idea. I guess I just the cold doesn't affect me like it does normal people." He said. The man with the gruff voice chuckled.

"I guess it don't matter none to me what happened. If I were in your shoes, I would just be glad to be alive." He said.

"Yeah, I guess that is a good thing." 253 said. He looked over the water and saw nothing but sea for miles out in every direction. "How long until we get to port?"

"From where we are now, a couple of hours at least. Still gotta stop every once in a while to get some fishing in. We still gotta business to run. Even though this should be a first-priority thing, there's no harm in a few stops, right?" The man said. 253 blinked, as bland in reaction as he normally was.

"I suppose not." He said. "I don't necessarily have a place to be. I guess I'm just...traveling."

"Traveling, huh?" The man with the gruff voice said, setting the net down on the ground. "Well, traveler, if you feel the need to throw in a hand now and again, don't wait around." He said.

"Of course." 253 said, albeit with no idea how to fish or sail.

"And for God's sake, grab a coat or something. We don't need someone getting sick on board and suing us." The man said. 253 nodded, tired of trying to explain he didn't need anything to keep him warm. He felt better than he ever had being bathed in the sun's light. But, these people were kind enough to give him safe passage to...wherever they were going. He decided to leave his destination in the hands of chance, rather than trying to plan. Because, to him, planning was pointless right now. He had no idea where anything was, or if anything was. And the things he _knew_ existed, he would rather not go there. He had no idea what he would do once he got to his destination, and no idea what it held for him.

"Hey, pale child!" A voice said. It wasn't as gruff as the last man's voice, but it was deeper, with a strange rough accent behind it. 253 turned to looked at the owner of the voice, and came face to face with an extremely large man. He was a couple inches taller and wider than him, his beard just shorter than the other man's was. "You have name?"

"I'm called 253." 253 answered honestly. The large man raised an eyebrow while looking down on him.

"Not number. Name." The large man said again. This confused 253.

"Is 253 not a name?" He asked. The large man grunted in response, and 253 looked down in confusion. "Well...I suppose I have no name." He looked back up at the man, making eye contact.

"No name?" The large man said. He reached up and clapped a large hand on 253's shoulder. "Then I give you temporary name."

"Temporary name?" 253 said. He did not know what a temporary name was, but he assumed it's nature was simple as it sounded. "What did you have in mind?"

"You remind me of friend back in my homeland, Henrick." The large man said. "I will call you this until learn birth name."

"I see." 253 said. The name Henrick was strange to him, but coming from this large man it sounded like he was a close friend. "It is a good name."

"Da, my friend, he not so good with the memory either." The large man said. "He is skinny and pale, look like you."

"Is that so?" 253 asked. There was something about this man that just made 253 trust him. He felt like an old friend, even when 253 did not quite yet understand the concept of friendship.

"Hey, Ahbram!" The man with the gruff voice yelled from the back of the boat. "We need you down in the engine room!" The large man, Ahbram, turned away from 253 and started to head to the back of the boat.

"Best of luck, Henrcik." Ahbram said before disappearing out of view behind a closed door, which probably led to a cabin. 253, or Henrick he supposed, looked at the door for another second before staring backup at the sky, and straight into the sun.


	5. Chapter 5

253, or Henrick now, stepped off the boat, led by the man with the gruff voice. They said they were going to give him to people who could help him. He was a bit skeptical, but he had no reason to doubt them. They helped him this far, what reason would they have to try and harm him? Still, he was alert. No matter how in-penetrable his skin was, there would be something out there that could pierce it. This was a simple fact of nature, he understood that much.

Still, even if he needed to stay on guard, how was he supposed to do that with all this stuff around him?

When they had pulled into port, 25-...Henrick did not know what to expect. He knew of cities and lands without ice, but since he had never really experienced it. To him, it might as well have been just a dream he heard from someone else. Not even his own.

But here he was. The port was completely filled with people and movement, the sounds of deep yelling and the clang metal colliding itself. There were very few bright colors, and even some were faded down to a dull shade of what they used to be. The smell of fish, oil, and salt was rampant everywhere. He looked around, studying the new features and faces of this strange place. The thing that really stood out to him here was how warm it was compared to where he had "woken up." The difference was great, even if it was still cold here.

Not that it really affected him.

"Henrick." Ahbram said suddenly. Henrick looked over at him, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Ahbram wore a large smile on his face. "Take care of yourself, my friend." It was now that Henrick saw the small black car over by a building. The man with the gruff voice was talking to a lady in a black suit and tie, wearing something on her face, so that he could hardly make out here eyes. Sunglasses, they were called. Henrick looked back to Ahbram, not wanting to appear rude.

"I will. Thank you, Ahbram." Henrick said. The large man clapped his hand on Henrick's shoulder, with enough force to make a large sound. "I will return this favor someday."

"I look forward to it." The large man said. "See you return that name to me when you find yours."

"I will. I promise." Henrick said.

"And, Henrick. A piece of advice." Ahbram said, his smile disappearing. "Try not to be so quick to trust people. Many will try to take advantage of that trust. You need to learn how to tell the difference. Between who you can trust, and who you can not."

" _Hey, Ahbram!_ " The man with the gruff voice yelled. " _Get your Russian ass over here!_ " Ahbram laughed when he heard that.

"Remember what I have told you, my friend." Ahbram said, letting go of Henrick's shoulder as he started to walk away. " _Do svidaniya._ "

* * *

"Can you tell me your name?" The lady asked, her blonde hair tied tight in a bun. The back of the car was increasingly more comfortable than the other cars he had been in, he found. The seats were soft, and the temperature inside was much warmer than outside. If he was being completely honest, it freaked him out a little bit. The man in the front hadn't spoken at all, or even glanced at Henrick. But he was driving, and he looked too soft to be up to anything.

"Henrick." He said simply. Henrick could see her right eyebrow raise over the lens covering it. She scribbled something on a blue notepad with black ink. He could not read it, but he knew it must be something other than his name since it took a bit longer than he would have thought.

"...And your last name?" She asked. Henrick blinked. Last name? He supposed the majority of people had one from what he understood, but last names were a way to identify ones familial or marital connections. He was neither married, nor did he have a family.

"I do not have one." He said. The lady was quiet for a moment, staring at him. She then sighed, dropping her head down slightly.

"Okay." She said, looking back up. "Do you have any living relatives? Parents, siblings?"

"No." She was silent for a moment. He was unable to read her expression, her face kept neutral.

"...No?" She asked him.

"No."

"...Okay. Where exactly are you from?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Henrick blinked.

"I mean what I said."

"Okay." She scribbled something else. "So is there a reason you don't know?"

"I can't remember." He said.

"Really? Well, what can you remember?"

"Everything in the last day or so." He said. "There's nothing before that."

"Is that so?" He nodded. "Okay, then." She closed her notebook. "I'm sure you are scared right now. Don't worry, I am here to help."

"I was not worried." Henrick said, but the lady kept talking as if he had not spoken. She smiled at him, removing her sunglasses from her face and setting them on her lap. The first thing he noticed where that her eyes were unnaturally green.

"If there is one thing that I have become extremely well at it is finding people. I assure you that your family is at there, and I will not rest until I have returned you to them." She was...silly, he found. She did not sound very realistic, but her energy and confidence was admirable, and, as he found, contagious, as he could not help himself from smiling as well. If only a little. "Until then, I will personally take care of you, all right?"

"I see. Thank you." He said. "I appreciate that."

"It's just my job." She said, pulling out a small object from her pocket. "Until then, let's find you somewhere to stay."

She pressed once on the devices back, and it lit up. Henrick's eyes widened as he saw it. _W_ _hat is that?_ He thought, leaning in to get a closer look at it. There was a picture of a cat in the back, it's face covered by numbers and words. He didn't know what it was, and that bothered him. Especially when it was something as...amazing as this was.

"Uh...Henrick?" The lady asked. He blinked and looked up at her. "Are you okay?"

"What is it?" He asked her. The lady blinked. She seemed as confused as he was.

"It's a phone." She said. Henrick's brow furrowed as he looked at it.

"It...makes calls...right?" He asked. He knew the function of a phone, but he didn't know how this was a phone.

"Among other things." She said. She tapped around the picture a few times, and it changed. Henrick blinked in surprise and backed up a bit, both wary and entranced by this device.

"...I see. Amazing." He whispered. The lady was silent for a moment, before she let out a heavy sigh.

"This might be a little harder than I thought." She said. She pulled up her contacts and called her boss, all the while Henrick kept a close eye on her phone. There was one thing that Henrick disliked. And that was not knowing how something worked. He felt a need to figure out this device, and all the secrets it held within. "Yes, Mr. Lansinoh?...Oh, I see...No,no, it's just, Henrick here has-...The boy that we were called about...the one the fisherman found...Yes, that one. He claims to have lost his memory...Yes, I understand that it's problematic...Oh, right. I need the okay for a DNA test...No, sir, I haven't tried to take a thumbprint yet...No, I just picked him up...Yes, I understand. Right away, sir...Of course."

The lady hung up her phone and sighed. Henrick watched it as it fell along with her hand into her lap. He did not have any questions about the one-sided conversation he just heard. He was much more interested in this small piece of technology.

"Well, looks like we'll be heading to my office, then." She said. Henrick looked at her. "Don't worry, this should only take a couple of hours at most. I'll find you somewhere comfortable to stay, all right?"

"Thank you." Henrick said. The blonde lady waved her hand up in the air.

"Oh, no need to thank me. Just doin' my job." She said, putting the pair of sunglasses back on her face, a smirk present along with them. "Another day, another dime."

"...You are a strange person." Henrick said. "But I am glad you are taking care of me." The lady frowned at him.

"Don't call me weird." She muttered, her mood seeming to go down immensely.

"Oh, I apologize." He said. She sighed.

"No, it's fine." She said, a small smile on her face. "I know I can be...a little too into the moment at times."

"Is that a bad thing?" Henrick asked, a frown on his face. He was sincerely curious, as he knew nothing about the rules of this society.

"Well, I don't think so. But I know plenty of people who would disagree." She chuckled a little. "But this is about you, not me."

"Oh, I see." Henrick said, looking forward. Through the window, he could see that they were at an intersection. Somewhere in the distance, he saw multiple large buildings, and some skyscrapers.

"That's Berk, where you'll be living." She said. "It has an interesting history, but I'm more worried about teaching you how to survive in this city." Berk...Berk...something about that name was...familiar. It didn't sound friendly, but he knew it from somewhere.

"Is it a dangerous place?" He asked, looking at her. She shook her head.

"No, just complicated. Especially for...someone in your position." She said. Henrick blinked.

"I see." He said. He looked back at the city as it got closer. It seemed to take up a large area, and there were a lot of buildings, but he didn't see that many cars on the road. "I will be living here?"

"That's right." She said. "Don't worry, as your case-worker, I will make sure you get the best living conditions we can offer, and I personally will be to help you to adjust to city life until we find where you belong."

"...So...I don't belong here?" Henrick asked, confused as to why she would put him somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. The lady looked panicked, waving both her hands at him.

"No, no, no, that's not what I didn't mean it like that. I meant that...well, just thing of this place as a temporary home, until we can find the place you came from, or somewhere you can stay until you grow up."

"Grow up?" He asked. She nodded.

"You can't be more than sixteen. Legally, we have to watch you until you're eighteen, then we have to let you go on you're own." She said.

"I see." He said.

"...You say that a lot don't you?" She asked. Henrick looked even more confused.

"Say what?"

"'I see.' You've said it at least eight times." She said. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. I just never heard someone say it that many times."

"...I see." Henrick said. "So I should not say it as much, then?"

"I really can't tell you how to talk. But, if you can avoid saying it so much, you should."

"I see."

"Okay, now you're just doing it on purpose." She said, frowning. Henrick blinked, his face neutral.

"Doing what?" He asked innocently.

The lady looked like she was about to say something, when the car suddenly shook. **_BOOOM_**. There was bright light for a moment, disappearing as quickly as it came. Henrick looked around, before his gaze fell on the road in front of them. There was an extremely large crater that had appeared suddenly in the ground, smoke rising from it. The lady next to him put her hand out in front of his chest protectively.

"IT'S THE GATE!" She yelled. "GET US OUT OF HERE!"

The driver quickly tried to back up speedily, only to be stopped abruptly. Henrick looked back, to see an incredibly large man...who seemed to be made entirely out of metal. He towered over the car, and was wider than it as well. He looked like a giant. Henrick frowned at it, but it was unlikely that it could see him, as it's face was too high up to see them through the back window.

"Shit!" The lady said. Henrick looked at her, and saw that, despite her tough act, she was completely terrified. "SHIT!" She yelled louder.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Don't worry about me!" She yelled, breathing hard. "Just...give me a second. I'll get us out of this!"

Henrick looked back at the metal man. He seemed strong...but then again, guns and drills hadn't hurt him, and he did break that large door at the facility. He wondered if he could take him. His instincts told him he could.

"I'll get him to stop." Henrick decided. Before the lady could protest, he stepped out of the car and looked up at the metal man. He barely came up to it's stomach, it was so tall. It did not seem to notice him for a second, then it's face turned and looked at him through a single blue circle. That must have been it's eye.

" **Who are you?** " It asked.

"My name is Henrick." He said. "Could you please move? We're trying to go somewhere."

" **Do you support the Gate?** " He said. Henrick blinked.

"What's the Gate?" Henrick asked. The metal man turned, looking down on him.

" **Then you do not.** " The metal man raised a fist in the air, aiming straight for Henrick.

"I see. You want to fight me...All right then." Henrick said, not moving a single muscle. "Come at me."


	6. Chapter 6

The large metal fist was coming at him, but Henrick did nothing it stop it. Instead, he stepped to the side, letting the fist slam into the road. It barely nicked his shirt, and the ground within a three foot radius of it cracked. He didn't flinch however. He just stared at the metal man's face. As he studied the features, he found the lack of human qualities to be quite...disturbing, to be honest. Still, he was only morbidly curios. Nothing more.

"So you're strong." Henrick came to that conclusion, seeing what it did to the ground. Henrick calmly put a hand on it's elbow. The width of it was too large, allowing him to grab only half the actual circumference. "Interesting. I wonder if you're stronger than me."

Henrick squeezed the arm hard and quick, without warning. The metal he had been touching completely crumbled under his strength. The metal man made a garbled noise and jumped back, the bottom half of the right arm dangling from what Henrick did to it. He felt kind of bad hurting the metal man, but he was just defending himself. He couldn't help but wonder if this was going to be an everyday occurrence. If it was, he wasn't looking forward to living in this city.

"Apparently not." He said, looking at his hand in wonder.

" **You are much stronger than the average human.** " The metal man said. Henrick looked at him. " **The amount of strength you show in a body such with your build and muscle mass** **is highly improbable.** "

"Body such as mine?" Henrick asked out of curiosity. Was there something about his body that made his strength impossible?

The metal man did not answer Henrick's inquiry. Henrick stood there and watched as the metal man reached over to his right shoulder with his left arm, and pulled off the entire limb. Henrick blinked in surprise at the sudden action. The metal man threw the now detached limb away, keeping his arm extended to his side. Henrick wondered if that was really necessary as the metal man pointed his arm at him, spreading his legs apart slightly in a crouch.

" **Gatling gun.** " He said. Henrick furrowed his brows.

"Gatling-" Without warning, the metal man's palm started to fire at him. A rain of bullets hit him in the front, tearing up his clothes as they bounced harmlessly off his skin. Henrick blinked at the sudden attack, studying his opponent. _He has a gun in his arm. I wonder if that is an intentional thing, or just something he has. Like my skin. The wise thing to do would be to take care of that quickly._

Henrick ran forward through the hailstorm and stopped in front if the metal man. He reached his right arm out to the side, and swung it to the left. He grabbed the metal man's forearm as he did that, breaking it off from the rest of the body. The metal man was still for a moment, before looking down at where Henrick was now.

" **Your skin seems to be unaffected by bullets. And you are too fast to be a human. Are you an android of some kind?** " The metal man asked. Henrick took a step back, looking up at the metal man.

"I do not wish to cause you any more harm. Please cease this violence." Henrick said. The metal man let his broken half-arm fall to his side, and stood up straight.

" **It is against my programming to surrender.** " The metal man said. " **My purpose for existence is to serve the Gate.** "

"There's that name again." Henrick said. "I'm guessing the Gate is a pretty important figure in this place."

" **The Gate is all that is truth.** " The metal man said. " **And that truth is above every other truth.** " Henrick scoffed, annoyed at the metal man's speech.

"Stop speaking in riddles." Henrick said. "Why did you attack me?"

" **You are either with the Gate or against the Gate. And anyone against the Gate must be eliminated.** "

"So you just attack people for no reason?" Henrick said, frowning.

" **It is in my programming.** " The metal man said. " **I have no other reason for existence.** " Henrick sighed. This man truly believed that he only existed as a tool to hurt others. Henrick did not know much about the why people exist, but he felt that the reason he existed was not an acceptable one. This Gate was truly an idiotic figure. Why in the world would you chose to be with something like that? He could question the ethics of this later, but right now he had to deal with this person. If he let him go, he would simply heal and continue to hurt. Henrick was not sure how much damage he could do with his two arms missing, but he could not take that chance.

"...I see." Henrick said. "You are too dangerous for me to let go. Yet I do not wish to kill you."

" **Kill me? I do not have a life to take. I am a battle android. Simply a machine for the Gate.** " The metal man said. Henrick blinked in confusion. Android? What was that? Great, now he had to find out what the heck an android was. Like this wasn't confusing enough already.

" _Freeze!_ " He heard someone yell. He turned to the source of the voice to see several uniformed man standing a few feet from them, guns raised in their directions. " _Put your hands above your head and get on your knees!_ "

 _Are these police officers?_ He thought, looking at the color and style of their uniform. There were only four of them, but he assumed that was enough to deal with this guy. _I'll leave him to them. I should go see if that lady is okay...whatever her name is._

He started to walk away towards the car. He hadn't taken even three steps before heard a gunshot and saw the bullet pass by his face. He blinked and stopped walking, turning to look at the officers.

" _I said freeze!_ " One yelled. Henrick blinked in confusion. They were talking to him? But he wasn't doing anything wrong. He didn't know any laws here, though. Perhaps he unknowingly broke one of their laws? " _Don't move a muscle! We are taking you under custody!_ "

He thought about it for only a millisecond, but he decided that the best way to go was to just listen to what they said.

" **The Gate has given me a mission.** " The metal man said. Only having a second to react, he saw the metal man run past him and to the car. " **AND I WILL COMPLETE IT!** " The metal man jumped up, higher than Henrick would have expected him too. It was a few feet over the car, and suddenly what it was planning became clear.

 _He's going to crush them!_ Henrick thought. Acting on instinct, Henrick sprinted beside the car, and jumped up. He felt an almost unnoticed pull at the small of his back. Without wasting a moment, he threw a single punch, which landed on the chest of the metal man. It's chest caved in from the force of his strength, and it flew back with great speed, so much so that Henrick was not sure when it was going to land. It was about twenty feet before it collided with the wall of nearby building, the concrete on the side exploding in a dust cloud from the impact. Henrick's fist had smoke rising from it, but it was unharmed. The metal man fell to the ground from the cloud of dust that had concealed him. He glared at the metal man and waited for him to move.

After a few moments, it was obvious that the metal man would not be moving any time soon, so Henrick let his fist uncurl and fall limp to his side. He let out a small breath and closed his eyes, his panic receding along with the urgency of the situation.

It was at this moment he realized he was still suspended in mid-air.

As he opened his eyes, he looked down at the ground below him, seeing he was hanging in the air only about six feet above it. He twisted and turned his head around to inspect his body, and saw no physical changes. But he was hovering in the air. Something must be doing that.

But no. He was doing it all on his own. He still felt that pull on that area of his back, and his rush of adrenaline. He decided to let both go, and he fell to the ground with a thump. His heart-rate fell as he stood back on solid ground, and he blinked in confusion. Had he really done that, or was it just his imagination?

" _Hey, y-you! Get on the ground!_ " The police yelled again. He had almost forgot about them in the moment. He knelt on the ground, watching as one of the officers ran at him. He blinked, then sighed.

"This is going to be a long day." He said.

* * *

He sat in a small white room, on a metal chair, his hands bounded and chained to a metal table. It was cooler in here than in the car, but it was still somewhat warm. The chair wasn't very comfortable, though. He looked around, studying the tiles around him and the large black pane of glass in the room. After they had transported him here in an armored truck, they had put him in here and had not talked to him since. He wondered what that nice lady was doing right now? Hopefully she was okay. She almost died today.

It suddenly occurred to him that he never got her name.

The door opened without warning, startling him out of his thoughts. He looked over to the door, to see the blonde lady from the car barging in.

"Miss Hofferson, stop! You can't just-!" The police officer was cut off by the blonde lady slamming the door on him. Hofferson...what a strange name. Was that familiar? She walked over to the opposite side of the table he was seated, and placed herself in her own metal chair. She was wearing her sunglasses, her arms crossed over her chest. She stared at him with a stolid expression, not saying a word.

Henrick glanced to the side nervously, wondering what was going on

"So, Henrick." She said, her foot tapping against the hard floor loudly.

"...Yes?" He asked. Suddenly, she jumped up, slamming her palms against the table, causing Henrick to jump back in shock.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE A GIFTED!" She said, an excited smile plastered over her face. Henrick blinked in surprise, leaned away from the woman.

"...Gifted?" He asked. He wasn't familiar with that term. At least not in the was she was using it.

"Yessssss!" She said, dragging out the last letter of that word. "What is it, anyways? I saw you flying, but you were also so strong, _buuut_ you were _also_ so fast!" Henrick stared at her, silent for a moment. He was exceedingly much more confused than when he arrived here, and he recognized that as not a good sign.

"...I'm afraid I do not know what you are talking about." Henrick said. It was the blonde woman's turn to be silent. She stared at him with a neutral expression, her eyes unreadable behind her dark glasses.

"...Seriously?" She said. "Oh, I forgot about the amnesia." She chuckled lightly at her little joke, while Henrick could only groan in response.

"Can you tell me what they plan on doing to me here?" He asked. The lady shrugged, sitting back in her chair.

"Just some police stuff, ya'know. Figure out your Gift, who you are, how you fit into everything that just happened, ect."

"I see." Henrick said. "Very well. I'll wait for whatever happens next." Henrick's stomach was empty. He could feel it start to ache. Maybe he should ask for some food the next time an officer came in.

"You know, you're kind of lucky." She said. Henrick blinked, looking up at her. "If you hadn't been attacked first, they might have kept you on charges for vigilantism. At least you can claim self-defense."

"Vigilantism, huh?" Henrick thought about it. What was that word? It sounded kind of similar to one he had heard before, but not really. "It's past due, but can I ask your name?"

"Oh, it's Jenna. Jenna Hofferson." She said, her chin pointed up in an unmistakable sign of pride. Henrick was silent for a moment, racking his brain for that name. Hofferson...Hofferson...

"Nope, never heard of you." Henrick said with a blank stare. Jenna seemed to deflate at that, but quickly perked up again.

"My family was one of the first to ever develop Gifts!" She said, trying to make herself sound more masculine that she was. "My ancestor's Gift was passed down the line of my family for the last a thousand years! Or name is mentioned throughout the history books! Our guidance is sought out worldwide!"

"What's a Gift?" Henrick asked, Jenna once again deflated.

"It's an ability somewhat rare among people." She said. "Only around thirty percent of the population has one. Mine is called 'Truth-Seeker.' I can basically tell when someone is lying or not, and even compel them to tell me whatever I want them to, whether it's what they ate last night or the plans on a bomb for an Arabian prince. I can even force people to go to sleep unwillingly."

"I see. That's a useful ability. I can see why you're so proud of it." She smiled.

"It's as old as the vikings who once roamed these lands before us." She said. Henrick did not know why that did not sit well with him. "And don't worry, the police trust me. With my word, I'll make sure you're not in any trouble."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." He said. She took off her glasses, giving him a warm smile.

"I know. Now, as to repeat my question earlier." She said, setting her glasses on the table. "Why didn't you tell me you had a Gift?"

"Well, I did not know that 'Gifts' were...a thing. I simply thought they were a part of me, like an arm, so I saw no need in mentioning them."

"I see. What Gifts do you have?" Henrick's stomach grumbled loudly, and he was starting to get impatient.

"Well, given the nature of Gifts that you explained to me, I would have to list them as 'Impenetrable Skin,' 'Strength,' 'Speed,' 'Understanding,' and 'Flight.'"

"That's...unusual. The largest ever recorded number of a person with Gifts was two. How many would you say you have?"

"I cannot say. Until around an hour ago, I was only aware of one or two abilities I possessed that were not of the norm. However, my instincts tell me I have more than the five I have listed. What they are, I can't be sure of."

"...That's...insane." She said, blinking. "And you're sure about this?"

"As sure as I can be." He said. She nodded once.

"Good. Now, sleep." She said, suddenly staring at him intensely. Hiccup blinked, then glanced to both sides, then looked back at her. The way she was looking at him made him uncomfortable.

"What are you doing?" He asked. Jenna blinked, then gaped at him.

"...You..should be asleep." She said in an almost whisper.

"Why?" He asked, not realizing she had intended to use her Gift on him. She shook her head.

"This...doesn't make any sense." She said. "How can you have so many Gifts?"

"...Can I have something to eat?"

"It's not possible." Jenna said, rubbing her temple with both hands.

"I haven't eaten a while."

"It just doesn't make any sense."

"I just want food."


	7. Chapter 7

"So, first thing's first," Jenna said, as Henrick still waited for his food. "After the DNA test come back, we have to go by my office. Just to pick up the proper paperwork."

"This is taking too long." Henrick lazily complained, slumping.

"It would be going faster if you hadn't eaten one of the cotton swabs."

"Give me food." Was all he said in response.

"Geez, you're acting like a kid." She said. "Well, you _are_ a kid, but you can act a little more mature."

"What is DNA anyway?"

"You'll learn it in school." She waved him off. "I'm trying to think."

"Hmm." Was all he said. He leaned back in his chair, looking to the side. "I kinda want to see the rest of this place."

Jenna didn't reply to that, instead choosing to continue to look at the ground in deep thought. Henrick looked at the glass on the wall, staring into the eyes of his reflection. He knew it was him, but...it didn't feel like him. Still, it was only physical appearance. Most likely it held next to no weight in the grand scheme of things.

Wait, what was that?

"...no way to..."

"...claims of multiple..."

Henrick stood up and walked in front of the glass. He could hear the voices on the other side, talking among themselves about what he could only guess to be himself. He could see nothing but his reflection on the glass, but there were faint outlines of the people behind there. He focused his vision, and soon the image of him went away, replaced by thousands of vibrating colored lines against the background of black that formed the shapes of people. Henrick blinked looking back and forth between the shapes who hadn't seemed to notice him yet. Whenever one stopped talking, the lines seemed almost to disappear.

 _Does this only work on moving objects?_ He thought.

"I don't care how long it takes, keep him here until we find out what the hell's going on." This was a man's voice, obviously angry. Every time he spoke, his shape seemed to vibrate a little more.

"Chief, with all due respect, by law you can't keep him here. He's in her custody now, and-" The other male was interrupted.

"Look at all the fucks I give!" Henrick didn't like this man's tone. "Until the detective gets here, he stays in that room."

"Can you at least give me food before then?" Henrick said out loud.

"Henrick, get away from the glass," Jenna said absentmindedly. At the same time, the two men in the room turned to face Henrick.

"Was he talking to us?" The wimpy man said.

"Maybe. If he does have more than one gift, then it wouldn't be too far-fetched. Go make sure the detective is on his way, and get me a coffee. All this is giving me a headache." The Chief turned to the opposite direction. "And get him some goddamn food."

The two men left through separate doors, leaving Henrick just standing there by himself. And Jenna, he almost forgot about here.

"Henrick, I have another question for you." Henrick turned to Jenna.

"Yes?"

"Do you know you're power level?" She asked.

"My what?"

"So no." Jenna sighed. "You are the hardest case I've worked on yet."

"What is a power level?"

"It's a way of measuring maximum power in a person," Jenna said, rolling her hand as she explained. "How strong someone is compared to an average Gift-less adult."

"I see. And Gift-less is someone with no Gift I assume."

"You assume correctly," Jenna said, smirking and stretching. "My power level is 2, so I'm twice as powerful as a Gift-less adult."

"I see," Henrick said. "And what is mine?"

"You think I'd have asked you if I knew? You need a person with a Sensing Gift to measure power. Fortunately for you, they have someone like that in this department."

"And I'm guessing that's the detective they were talking about."

"...who?"

"The Chief and someone else, I heard most of their conversation from behind the glass."

"One, it's rude to listen in on a conversation without permission."

"Oh, I see. I apologize."

"And two, how?"

"I have good hearing."

"...Of course, you do. In any case, you're just going to have to sit there and wait until they're ready."

"I understand," Henrick said, sitting down back on his chair.

"In the meantime, we should get to know each other."

* * *

 **Elsewhere**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

A video screen was blinking in the darkness, showing the fight between Henrick and the meta-soldier that was supposed to grab the Hofferson descendant. Stopped on the exact moment the robot was destroyed. The pure look of boredom that was displayed on the boy's face was infuriating to one of the viewers...and exciting to the other.

" ** _What should we do, master?_** " The deep, scratchy voice said from out the darkness, full of rage. There was silence for a few seconds following this.

" _I...I knew him_."

" **M-Master?** "

" _He has the blood of the old gods in him_."

" **B** **ut,** **the old gods died.** "

" _Yes...but he is a lot older than he appears. There is something...different about this one. He could...expand my empire, or my power...preferably both._ "

" **Master, he is a simple mortal. He is not worthy of that place.** "

" _And who is...you?_ "

" **N-no, master, of course not. I am a simple servant. And as such I will not let a being such as him-** "

" _Hildisvini...my husband is dead...my children are dead...yet me and him...we survive...there must be a reason for this...perhaps, the universe does indeed want the old gods back."_

" **Master...** " The deep voice was full of sorrow for its master.

" _I watched all but me burn. He is a part of this as much as you or Loki. I wish to speak to him. Please."_

" **...Of course, Freyja.** **But first, wish to witness the full extent of his power. If he is truly worthy of what you require.** "

" _...I will be patient._ "

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

"Hello, Henrick." The detective smiled. A chubby man with a missing front tooth, every "h" he pronounced had a slight whistle to it. Most of the other teeth were singed yellow. Even a few feet in front of him, Henrick could smell a rotten scent from where he sat. If he had to describe it in one word, he would have to say "sick."

"Hello." He had been led to a different room, almost indistinguishable from the last one. He wondered why they didn't just leave him in the last one, but he didn't care enough to ask. He was still a little upset that they had interrupted his talk with Jenna.

"First thing's first, I'm just going to ask you some basic questions, very by the books in this situation."

"Okay."

"First thing's first...what connection do you have to the Gate?"

"None that I know of."

"So are you saying you could?"

"Possibly. I have no memory outside of the past couple of days."

"I see. Very convenient for you, is it not?"

"Not really. Quite annoying really."

"Hmmm. Indeed." The detective wrote some things down on a pad with a pen. "So you say you have no memory?"

"That is correct."

"But you know your name."

"Yes." The detective glanced up at Henrick, ceasing his writing for a moment.

"Very selective, your amnesia."

"No, I was given this name by a friendly fisherman."

"A fisherman? Really?" Henrick nodded. "May I have his name?"

"Ahbram. He said I could borrow this name until I learned mine."

"He was one of the crews who found you if I'm not mistaken." He looked down at the paper and continued. "All alone in the Arctic. Do you know what you were doing there?"

Henry took a moment to think over what had happened and find the right words.

"I believe the group that found me were attempting to torture me."

"...The fishermen?"

"No, the others. They found me originally when I woke up, and I left shortly after they attempted to cut me multiple times."

"Henrick, this is a very serious accusation. Now, according to statements from everyone else, this is the first you ever mentioned that."

"They never asked," Henrick said.

"I see. Could you tell me who captured you?"

"There were soldiers, and a man named Dr. Trost. Their building had multiple insignia's of golden arrow triangles."

"Soldiers could be Gate, but those arrows don't seem familiar. They say anything about they meant?"

"Something about representing parts and wholes. I wasn't really interested, they kept trying to cut me open."

"Is that right? And what happened after that?"

"I got annoyed and left."

"Just like that. I thought it would be pretty hard to escape a situation like that."

"It was. I couldn't find the door."

"Hmm...welp, I think that's all I got for you." The detective flipped through the notebook. Henrick looked down at the little notepad across from him, with scribbles all across the pages. "Thank you for your cooperation. I will get back to you as soon as possible."

"Okay," Henrick said. The detective stood up, straightening his coat.

"Until then, we will need you to stay here. For safety reasons, of course, I hope you understand."

"No problem," Henrick said, as the detective packed his stuff (his only possessions being the pen and notebook) and walked out the door directly behind Henrick.

With a click, the young man was left alone sitting at the table. He sat in silence for a moment, before he started tapping on his legs.

* * *

"So, Lowry." The Chief asked. The detective, Lowry, lit a cigarette right in the office, putting it up to his mouth.

"Yeah, Chief?"

"You believe his story?" The detective blew out a plume of smoke straight up into the ceiling, letting it out with a small chuckle.

"Course not. Then again, I wasn't paying much attention. Just trynna get a grasp on his power level."

"And what did ya get on _that_ front?"

"It's weird. I saw the security footage of this kid, and from that alone, he had to have a power level of thirty. But in that room, I couldn't feel anything higher than a one from him."

"One?" The Chief asked, sitting back in his chair. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Trust me, I don't understand it either, but my feelings ain't ever wrong."

"...Could he be hiding his power level?" The detective scoffed at that.

"Not from my gift. It's too precise. Same thing as if he was hiding it." The detective inhaled a lungful of cancer smoke. He had contemplated many times quitting, but it was too stress-relieving. Plus, it drove people crazy. So what if it had a side-effect of cancer? He would go out having fun rather than being healthy.

"Well, he's definitely not an Artificial. I don't see any other explanation for this."

"What if his power level just changes?" It was the Chief's turn to scoff.

"People have limits. You can't just raise and lower your limits at will. And even if you could, to change your own power level that drastically is unheard of." The detective blew out his smoke.

"Unheard of," Lowry said, looking at the ceiling. "Not impossible."

"It just doesn't make any sense, but..." The Chief trailed off, staring into the middle distance in thought. He was reminded of a certain killer two years ago. "Regardless, we can't let him go yet, even if he is just a kid."

"Are we even sure he's a kid? He sure looks 16, but we know nothing besides the very un-credible story he told us earlier and a few witness accounts, half of which have already left."

"Wait, you let them leave?! Lowry, you have to keep the witnesses here by law until full statements can be provided!" Lowry shrugged, causing the Chief ton sigh. "I'll figure it out soon enough. For now, his case is still considered under investigation. Keep him here, at least, and get in touch with those other witnesses. Make sure none of them have left the province yet."

"Actually, I have to go on that drug bust case you put me on, remember?" Lowry said. "Don't you have the help for that grunt work?" The Chief sighed.

"Please don't refer to my staff as 'the help.'" The detective rolled his eyes. The Chief sighed again at the detective's behavior, reaching over and pressing the mic on his intercom. "SINGH! GET IN HERE!" He yelled into the intercom, his deep voice blasting out all over the station.

"Nice," Lowry said, putting out his cig. "Now I gotta act like I'm following the rules."

"Or you could actually follow them in the first place?" The Chief suggest.

"Suuuure. And next, you'll give up drinking." The detective said, rolling his eyes.

"Lowry." The Chief said in a warning tone, that not even Lowry would say anything against. At that moment, the door to the Chief's office opened, revealing a properly dressed officer who was standing at attention.

"You called sir!" Singh yelled enthusiastically.

"Come here, I have an assignment for you."


	8. Chapter 8

"What the hell do you mean he has to stay with me?!"

"Exactly what I said, Ms. Hofferson. We can not legally hold him for more than two days, so we need to put him in an environment where he can be monitored and controlled if he decides to do something dangerous."

"Excuse me, but do you know what you're asking me to do?!"

"Yes, I understand. Especially with the current state of your family, but I'm afraid we have no other choice."

"It's not me I'm worried about. My daughter won't like this. Especially after the incident. What am I supposed to tell her?"

"We don't have many other options at the moment, none within legal reasoning. At this point, we can't put him under investigation as a suspect, since all of the statements from witnesses claim him as a victim. We're coming on the max amount of time we can hold him, and the safest place for him, and for us, is in the care of someone we know can put him down if need be."

". . . Angie won't like this."

"I understand that. Look, this isn't a police order or setup. This is me, asking you for a favor."

". . ." Jenna stood silent, crossing her arms. Her past with the high-tier Gifted was something neither her or her daughter had gotten over. The scars ran too deep. What happens to people with too much power was something she understood too well. Henrick was just a kid, but a kid with a very dangerous weapon. "I need to talk to my daughter first."

"I understand. Just get back to me as soon as possible."

Jenna stepped outside, letting out a long breath. She pulled out her phone and clicked speed-dial.

 _Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Click._

" _Hello?_ "

"Angela?"

" _Hey, mom, what's up?_ "

"Nothing, baby. Just at work." Her daughter groaned at the sound of the word "baby."

" _Mom, I'm almost 17._ "

"I know, I know. It's just, there's something I want to talk with you about."

" _Uh, okay._ _Well, what is it?_ "

"Well, there's someone who might have to be staying with us for a while."

" _Why?_ "

"The police Chief asked me this personally. He said it would be safer if he was with us?"

" _What, is he in danger?_ "

"No, not per se."

" _Well, why does he have to come with us?_ "

"It's just complicated dear."

" _What, is he a criminal?_ "

"No, he's not. He's done nothing wrong."

" _Then what are you being so weird about? Is . . . is he like_ her _?_ "

" No, Angie, he's not. It's . . . it's nothing. I guess I'm just paranoid." She sighed. "I love you."

" _Love you too, mom. Now can I go?_ "

"Not until you say it as you mean it," Jenna said jokingly.

" _Bye, mom._ " She said, then hanging up, wondering if she made a mistake by not telling her daughter just how powerful he was.

* * *

"What exactly is this?" Henrick said as he held the cup up.

"Chocolate milk." The officer said, standing next to the door with his arms crossed, not making eye contact with the boy.

"Huh, it's actually pretty good," Henrick said, putting the cup up to his lips and taking a couple of sips. "Is there any more of it?"

"Yes." The officer said. Henrick took a couple of more sips of the cold liquid, relishing the taste.

There was a quick repetition of knocks at the door. The officer stepped to the side as it opened, and the chief of police and Jenna stepped in.

"Hello, Henrick." The chief said. Henrick swallowed the chocolate milk in his mouth.

"Hello." He replied.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I suppose."

"That's good." The chief said. "Well, we did work something out about where you'll be staying."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Until we can find where your family is, Jenna will be taking care of you."

"I see," Henrick said. He turned to Jenna. "Do you have chocolate milk?"

" . . . uh, yes?" Jenna said, caught off guard by the question.

"Then I have no complaints," Henrick said, sipping a little more of his chocolate milk.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're happy with the arrangement. We just have a couple more questions you'll have to answer, then we'll let you go on your way."

"Okay."

"Well, I guess we should start then." The Chief said, sitting across from Henrick. "First things first, Henrick. Do you know anything concerning the Gate?"

"No."

"All right, then. You're good to go." The Chief said, standing up.

"Okay," Henrick said, drinking the chocolate milk again. Jenna blinked.

"Wait, that's it?" She said.

"Yep. You can go ahead and leave." He said, making to walk out of the room. Before he did, he leaned in and whispered something into Jenna's ear, which Henrick did not bother to pay attention to as he was lost in his chocolate milk.

The Chief stepped out and closed the door behind him. Jenna let out a sigh, stepping close to the table.

"Welp looks like you're coming with me kid," Jenna said. Henrick nodded, standing up. "We'll go over ground rules when we get to my house."

"Okay." He said.

"But there is one thing. Try and keep the fact that you're Gifted a secret."

"Why?"

" . . . let's just say this world has a lot of problems, Henrick. And we don't need to deal with any more than we already have."

"Oh," Henrick said. He thought for a second. "I do not understand, but I will trust your judgment."

"Thanks." She chuckled. "Let's go."

* * *

Henrick sat in the passenger seat of a light blue car, watching the buildings pass him as they went down the street. The sky was cloudy now, and he was sad to see the sun retreat behind its cover.

"Look, school starts in a couple of weeks," Jenna said. "And I doubt you're too old to go. As much as I wanna focus on finding your family, I can't ignore the basic need of education for you."

"Oh, so a school is a place where you go to get an education?" Henrick said, turning to face her.

" . . . it depends on how you define 'education.' Basic knowledge on a multitude of subjects is how I see it. And although I know some of it is useless, doesn't mean that there's nothing for you there."

"Uh, okay."

"Anyways, it's gonna be a struggle to teach you how to act in a public situation. While I've seen you've been well-behaved so far, so I'm not too worried. However, I don't want you to get embarrassed or anything out there, so we're just gonna test you on how much you know, then adjust accordingly."

"I don't get embarrassed."

"I'm sure you don't. Still, if you want to do things comfortably, you have to know how they work."

"I see."

"We can worry about all that later. Right now, let's just you settled in."

They turned a corner and continued down that street. There was silence for a couple more moments while Henrick sat studying all the different buildings and cars that passed him. It was like a big maze of metal and concrete, each wall was painted with its own unique scenario. It was actually quite fascinating to see.

"Oh, and Henrick?"

"Yes?" He answered turning to face her. He was met with the face of a terrifying demon and felt the overwhelming murderous intent come from the woman next to him.

" _Don't try anything with my daughter. Got it_ _?_ "

" . . . yes, ma'am." He said quietly. He didn't know what she meant, but he was too scared to ask her to clarify.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, guys. So, just a quick message to promote my other account, _GodOfFighting_.**

 **I have a second account because the pieces on that one mostly focus on anime-related universes and powers, while this account is for ones that don't have those direct influences of stories or characters. I did this because...well, I just wanted to. So, if you like the stories on this account, go check out some of the pieces I made on that one.**

 **If you're not a usual fan of anime related stuff, that's cool, just stick to this account for that.**

 **Although I suppose working on like 6 or 7 stories on a time might be a bad idea, I have too many ideas in my head and if I don't get them down, then they just vanish.**

 **Anyways, most of the pieces on that already have a decent amount of chapters, so feel free to explore it. Thanks!**

* * *

"It's just up these last set of stairs," Jenna said. She walked up ahead of Henrick, typing away on her phone.

Henrick followed without a sound, letting her lead the way. He glanced side to side, studying the walls of this building. An apartment complex is what she had called it if he remembered correctly.

They finally arrived at a door, where Jenna whipped out a set of keys from her back pocket.

"Okay, so don't touch anything that I don't tell you specifically to touch, got it?" She said.

"I understand." He said as she opened the door. It was a cozy area, but still large enough to look like a large family could live there. The kitchen was open, but still a separate area from the living room or the hallway. Every piece of furniture looked neat and shiny.

"You'll be staying in our guest room for now." She said, walking towards a hallway in the back, past an extremely colorful kitchen. "Try to keep loud noises to a minimum, and no running. People live below us and they don't like it when we stomp around."

She opened a door at the end of the hallway to reveal an almost barren room, with one bed and one nightstand and a closet. This was fine since Henrick did not need much space or room.

"I'll give you time to settle in. Eventually, we'll work on expanding your knowledge, but for right now, just try to relax and get adjusted. Feel free to wander around here and the living room, but don't through any closed doors without my say-so, alright?" She moved toward the living room. "I have to make a call, so stay here until I get back, okay?"

He nodded once in conformation and she disappeared from his view, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He looked around his new room, it was a lot comfier than he was used to. Pondering on what to do next, he decided to take a nap.

* * *

"Okay, just treat him like he was your cousin, okay." Jenna said. Her daughter rolled her eyes.

Angela Hofferson was a strange character, although that was probably what she wanted to come off as. She changed her appearance on a constant basis, never quite satisfied with how each new look turned out. At first, it was to simply make a statement with her fashion, but she soon realized that those kind of statements were out of style because everyone had already done something similar to that. So she just started wearing anything she thought would look good together.

She had the same bright blonde hair like her mother and blue eyes, though she was intent to dye it different colors. Now she wore a leather jacket and back jeans with rips underneath the knees, because her school's dress code did not allow any skin above the knee showing. She tied her hair up in a bun and a set of bangs reaching just above her eyebrows. A plain white t-shirt that had been covered with multitudes of her drawings and writings, but they all overlapped so you could not really pin-point what anything was really saying.

"Yes, mom." She said, slightly amused as she closed the front door to their apartment.

"I'm serious." She said. "No funny business, you got that?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Angela said.

She set her backpack, having come fresh from school to meet her new roommate, and opened the fridge to take out a pop. Her mom had an issue with her sweet tooth, saying all the sugar and caffeine she consumed was unhealthy. Honestly, she didn't understand where she was coming from, but she wasn't about to stop eating sweets. She took a long swig of her drink much to her mother's chagrin.

"Henrick's going to have a hard time adjusting to all this, so I don't need you scaring him."

"I'm not _that_ scary."

"Mm-hmm."

"So, what's the deal with this guy, anyway?" Angela said, sitting down.

"I don't really know what you mean by that," Jenna said.

"You said on the phone that it was complicated, that he was in danger. What did you mean by that?"

Jenna sighed. Instead of speaking, she went over to the couch. The teen looked at her mother strangely. She was rarely this serious, so to see her act this out of character was strange.

Angela patted the cushion next to her, and her daughter reluctantly walked over and sat in that spot. Her mother remained silent for a while before sighing.

"I'm not gonna lie to you and say I have an idea about him. I'm basically as clueless as he is at this point. But I do know he's a good kid, he's just in a messed up place right now."

". . . oooookay."

"I just want you to keep an open mind, and not overreact before I finish." Angela scoffed.

"It can't be that bad."

"It's not, but . . . well, to start out, he has no memory of his family or anything before a couple of weeks or so ago. A fishing boat found him near the Ice Coast, wearing clothes obviously not meant for that weather. When I talked to him, he had no idea who he was or who his family was. In fact, he had very little knowledge of anything, so I'm guessing it's some form of amnesia. Still, we need to do our best to make sure he feels completely comfortable here. He's going through a lot, even if he doesn't know it, it's going to take a toll on him."

". . . I understand," Angela said.

"So, we're just keeping him here until they find his family. I'll need your help, though."

Angela nodded, suddenly uncomfortable. This was a lot to drop on her in a single afternoon, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

"There's just one more, _teensy-weensy_ little problem," Angela chuckled nervously.

"Aaaand that is?"

"He's Gifted," Angela said, watching her daughter fro a reaction.

As expected, any sign of emotion went away from her face entirely as her daughter stared her in the eye. She didn't blame her for having some reservations about the Gifted, but after all this time after that incident for her to still be like this was disappointing, to say the least.

"What's his level?" She never used the word "power" when referring to those with Gifts.

Jenna did not necessarily blame her. Ever since _that woman_ had almost killed them, Angela had put up a wall between her and most of the Gifted. At least, those who Angela knew could cause a great deal of destruction in their wake. It wasn't something that Jenna was comfortable with coming from her own daughter, but it wasn't that she couldn't blame her for either. It's not like she was one of those "Pro-Menksers" going around and yelling for the heads of everyone who was stronger than they were. Even so, the slight prejudice that was in her daughter could still grow, seeing as how

"Around ten, give or take one." That was nowhere near close to the truth, but she didn't want to risk her daughter storming out just yet.

". . . okay." She said. Angela stood up and walked over the kitchen, not looking at her mother again.

"Angie, I know how you feel about those with stronger Gifts, but you can trust him."

"Okay," she said, not saying anything more than that.

Jenna sighed, turning to the T.V. and picking up the remote. She didn't know what she was going to do with her daughter, all that she could do was hope that she would grow out of it. Who knows, maybe having Henrick around would be a good influence on her. He was a nice enough kid.

The only problem was that she knew too little about him. She didn't like that at all. She wished that the DNA test didn't take as long as it did, she couldn't stand waiting.

With an audible sigh, she clicked a button on the remote and turned on the T.V.

"- _another attack by the emerging terrorist group, 'The Gate of Helhiem.' This time it seems they've employed a meta-soldier, yet the motives behind this attack remain shrouded in mystery._ "

The reporter spoke in a direct and commanding voice, the scene behind her the place where Henrick had destroyed that meta-soldier. Jenna blinked in surprise. She knew that it would be covered eventually, but she didn't expect it to be so fast.

" _We do not know who or what was targeted, but according to eye-witnesses testimonies and local security cameras, it was a Gifted who thwarted the attack, a Caucasian male in his teens. Nothing else can be said at this moment._ "

Jenna quickly changed the channel before her name was mentioned. Her daughter was in the room, and she didn't want her to have any more reason to be wary of Henrick. Still, if someone decided to reveal a picture or even an artist rendition of what Henrick looked like, it would be chaos around here. She hoped they found his family, and fast so they could piece together what happened.

"- _course I have a problem with them!_ " A voice yelled over the T.V. It was a dark-skinned woman in her mid-30's, who Jenna recognized as the ambassador of New Spain. " _This is the second terrorist attack by the Gate in less than a month, and on different sides of the world! We now have two immediate threats to deal with._ " The camera cut to a younger blonde man, holding a note pad.

" _Two, ma'am?_ "

" _I'm referring to t_ _he Gate and the Ofreflis-madr, of course,_ " she said, quickly adding, " _and_ _while the Pro-Menskers are a threat as well, they haven't been as active or destructive as these two have._ " The interviewer saw this a slip-up, no doubt, trying to prod for a mistake.

" _I see. So, how a big a threat are they?_ "

" _While their cause has been dying out, they are still a terrorist organization and will be treated as such._ "

" _What is your response to rumors that the Pro-Menskers are gaining not only support but supplies from some governments around the world._ "

" _While I can not be 100% sure about every government, I can say without a doubt that New Spain and none of the League of Nations allies are in collusion with those fanatics._ " The interviewer nods in contemplation, taking more notes on his notepad.

" _Still, there's a lot of doubt on political affiliation, especially with the proposed Tokyo Bill by Japan._ " Jenna saw the ambassador shift uncomfortably, although a smile was still on her face. " _What are our thoughts on this?_ "

" _While I do believe that not every Gifted is a potential threat, there are still precautions we have to take. It's no different than requiring licenses from gun-owners. I do sympathize with the Gifted on some of the conditions that this bill would bring forth, which is what I'm currently trying to work on._ "

" _Still, there are Gifted that have a problem with having to be 'tagged' in general, many of the biggest voices of the gifted comparing the tags to the Stars of David._ "

" _Well, I can certainly see where they're coming from, but as incidents of Gift-related crimes and destruction continue rising in number, I see the need for_ something _to be in place._ "

" _Yet-_ "

Jenna changed the channel. She was never one for politics. They were more tricky than courts sometimes, and everyone had some kind of agenda. It honestly gave her a headache. She wanted to watch something stupid to help her wind down. She continued flipping through different channels looking for something more lighthearted. She sighed as she sunk deeper into the couch, mindlessly going through channel after channel. She heard her daughter shuffling around the open kitchen opening and closing cabinets. She wondered what she thought of all this, but at the same time, she was afraid to ask.

"What's that?" A voice asked. Jenna looked back and saw Henrick standing just behind the couch. A yelp from the kitchen hinted at her that her daughter had not seen him come out either.

"A television," Jenna said, sitting up straight. "You don't know what this is either?"

"No." He said moving around the couch and sitting next to her, at a comfortable enough distance.

"These things are pretty cool." She said, putting on her social worker persona. "You can watch all kinds of cool things. Movies, cartoons, news from around the world."

"I see," Henrick said. Jenna had surmised that that was something Henrick said when he didn't really know what else to say. While it wasn't wrong or anything, it was definitely annoying. "What are you watching?"

"Haven't decided yet." She said. "Let me know when something catches your eye."

She must have flipped through a dozen channels, all kinds of movies, shows, even cartoons. The boy stared at the T.V. blankly, not showing any kind of reaction at all. He didn't seem bored, but not entertained either. It was a weird line on the two that he walked. Jenna hadn't decided yet if that was simply a defense mechanism or his actual personality.

"Wait!" He said suddenly said. Jenna stopped flipping through channels. "Would you go back some, please?"

She flipped back two channels.

"This?" Henrick didn't answer, just looked bright-eyed at the screen as the show played out.

Jenna recognized it as an older popular animated show from Japan called Tiger Fighter S. While Jenna didn't really like that sort of thing, Henrick seemed enamored by it. The show had seemed to be in the middle of a fight scene, and Henrick leaned on the edge of the couch, watching with an intense concentration. While Jenna was a little old to really be watching this sort of thing, she could appreciate the quality of the animation at least.

"You going to be good here?" She asked. He nodded once, not taking his eyes off the T.V. She sighed and stood, leaving the remote on the couch for him.

* * *

Henrick watched the show with such concentration. At first, it was the colors and strange look that had attracted him, but as the characters on screen started fighting, Henrick had been dragged deeper into it. He could recognize it wasn't real, but it was too interesting and exciting for him to ignore. The characters were moving in complex ways, and Henrick wondered if doing that in real life would look like that.

At one point during the fight, both characters had stopped to talk. Henrick had thought that was not a realistic choice, but what they were speaking about was engaging.

" _You could have so much fun, young one. You could have money, women, and long life if you just join in taking over this weak and pathetic world._ " The one who looked like a purple dinosaur to the guy who looked like a normal human being as they were suspended in mid-air over a forest.

" _I don't think so, Warui. I have all the power I need to defeat you, and I have made a solemn vow to protect those I care about! I will not let you harm them!_ "

Henrick felt anticipation building up as the conversation went on for what seemed like hours until they finally started fighting again. Henrick watched their every move with intensity, noticing how it didn't really feel real because limbs or body parts would disappear completely or multiply at random times, most likely to give it the feel of speed. Well, even with the holes, it was still enjoyable nonetheless.

For the next hour or so he would sit in front of the T.V. watching that cartoon.


End file.
